


Split Like a Lip

by kirakirababy



Category: Alice Nine, the GazettE
Genre: Crossover Pairings, Emotional Baggage, Flashbacks, Gay, Gay Sex, Implied Relationships, Infidelity, M/M, Minor Violence, Multiple Pairings, Past Infidelity, Poetic, Unresolved, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 07:10:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4657314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirakirababy/pseuds/kirakirababy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You looked at me sideways through a curtain of hair, looked at me like pain is something you knew looked like me, and then laughed, hiding your teeth with a bottle between pouting lips, “you had me.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Split Like a Lip

The noise of the party was swelling though the door, beating from inside your sacred bones where my lips touched the delicate skin of your neck.  
I listened hard for your heart, but all I could hear was something like the sound of a distant train.  
Blood beating together  
train tracks layed parallell, pulsing side by side  
clackity-clacking through your throat against my teeth.  
Somewhere behind me twilight had fallen and the streetlights snapped on  
flooding the room in amber and shadow.  
Your eyes grew soft as you gazed past me out the window  
and I knew from the sudden softness of your eyes that there was snow.  
The weatherman had said it was going be a miserable night.  
But you thought that snow was beautiful.  
  
_You stirred your coffee with your finger and laughed loudly when I grabbed your hand  
held your palm to my mouth and felt warm, bitter liquid drip slowly against my smile.  
It ran a river down your wrist.  
The snowflakes clung to your eyelashes and settled on your winter coat, caught in the lining of your slippers.  
“I really should go before this storm gets any worse.”  
“Stay.” Your fingers tightened over mine. In a rush you leaned forward and kissed the coffee from my lips, “Stay and watch the snow.”_  
  
“What are you doing?” You pulled a cigarette from your pocket, put it to your lips, then took it out again.  
Unsteady fingers dropped it to the floor.  
“You know, I still want you.”  
You looked at me sideways through a curtain of hair, looked at me like pain is something you knew looked like me, and then laughed, hiding your teeth with a bottle between pouting lips, “you had me.”  
And I thought  
you were still so lovely to look at.  
The way your honey eyes smiled, decidedly spent, as you pressed your hand the door behind your back, closed it with a click, said softly, “You had me, and I was so much in love with you once.”  
  
_“I love you.”  
Your whiskey and wine confession was whispered against shaking skin, breath flickering unsteadily like the votive candles which gave the room a faint golden glow.  
Your hair fell across your eyes as you lifted your back and obscured the light.  
“You are so beautiful.” I murmured, running my fingers lightly from shifting hip to sharp shoulder.  
And you were.  
You were beautiful when your body begged with tightening thighs and spasming stomach, 'please, take this hurt from me.'  
Beautiful when your lips pressed hungrily to mine  
and you kissed my eyes closed, 'please, share this burden with me.'_  
  
“We were young.”  
You were drunk in a familiar way.  
Drunk in the way your eyes fell shut, the way your skin jumped and the goosebumps left behind by rough fingertips seemed to scream into the space between our bodies, 'we may pretend, but we also remember.'  
“Yes. We were.” You looked at me, wide-eyed like you were looking at a crime scene, “and love changes.” I wanted so badly to ask, where do words of love go when we love no longer?  
Do they dry up and disappear?  
Or are they simply buried at the end of something  
we had never let begin.  
“There's a lock on the door.”  
“There is.”  
“Do you want this?”  
“What if I told you this were the last time?” Your voice throbbed against my throat, breath warm and cloying. Heavy. “What would you do?”  
I would tear you at the seams  
skin you to the bones  
because I love it when you're crying that you  _miss me_  screaming  _how could you do this to me_ through gritted teeth. I love it when you're dying to be okay.  
I clutched your hips like gentle wounds,  
watched you bite your lip and lean back, hips arched, eyes closed  
listened to the breath pulled from your lungs into the thrumming air in a shuddering gasp  
when I fell to my knees to confess it.  
“I don't know” lies mumbled against a warm belly and trembling thighs. Easy questions like, “Do you love him?” slipped out over the sound of the teeth of your zipper disconnecting.  
You laughed.  
Eyes turned the other way, your profile looked just like tomorrow's martyr, “I'm learning to.”  
  
_“I'm so sorry.”  
“Get out.”  
“Please, Yuu.” Your voice wavered and took on a desperate quality, “Please. I'm sorry. It was a mistake. I'm sorry.”  
“Apologies are cheap.” I hissed, and pushed you against the wall. When you straightened, you met my eyes with a glare. “Just like you.”  
The slap was quick and sharp, and made my ears ring, “Fuck you.”  
My cheek stung painfully where I would later see that a ring had broken skin.  
I grabbed your wrist and pushed you towards the door, “Go give him your fucking apology.”_  
  
Your groans grew thicker.  
And my name became nothing but a wretched noise on your lips.  
Grip tighter, you raked your fingers through my hair  
as the music rumbled through your ribs and down my foolish  
fragile spine.  
The languid movement of your hips ribboned with the salty taste  
of the bitter words on the tip of my tongue.  
Swallowed with sex and cigarette smoke,  
they slid down my throat with a shudder.  
  
_“I can't do this anymore.”_  
_“He doesn't make you happy.”_  
 _“He does.”_  
 _“Then why are you here, Kou? What are you doing?”_  
 _“I don't know.” Velvet lips against my cheeks, alcohol-laced breath flaring across heated skin. “I need you now.”_  
 _Like you needed me then._  
 _I looked at you and saw the comfort in our bed._  
 _Saw you filling the space in my sheets like liquid promises._  
 _Saw the days spent in silence_  
 _because there was nothing more to say._  
  
You whispered for me to get up  
held out your hand like you were checking for rain  
but you were just asking for your discarded cigarette.  
“Let me drive you home.” I said out of the silence.  
A slow smile played over your mouth and your hair stuck to the remnants of lip gloss and beer on your lips when you shook your head no, “I have to go.”  
Far this time.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at:  
> http://sciencesaves.livejournal.com/35369.html


End file.
